


The Gardening Club

by SourCrumb



Category: Original Work
Genre: Female Friendship, Magical Girls, Multi, Psychological Horror, Slice of Life, this is going to be a RIDE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 01:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12620380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourCrumb/pseuds/SourCrumb
Summary: Hey, yeah, it's me. This is my 2017 Nanowrimo novel in the rawest of forms. I'm posting it as I finish each chapter. I do have it outlined. There is an ending.I've had this story in the back of my head for about two years now, and I feel it has gathered enough moss for me to grow something pretty great out of it.Very much inspired by dark shojo stories, such as Yuuki Yuuna wa Yuusha de Aru and Puella Magi Madoka Magica. Also features a ton of diverse characters.Thanks for checking it out!





	The Gardening Club

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first pass of something I believe in. I hope you like it.

Shirley Stirling had never known the life of a only child. She had always shared her life. Kayla had been the eldest twin, the one who had emerged screaming from their mother only two minutes ahead of her silent sister. The two had been polar opposites from the start.

Kayla had been energetic, bombastic, a force of nature. She had always run up the steps of their apartment building, usually with her cell phone pressed to her ear as she talked to one of her many, many friends. They'd always known when she was coming by the stomp of her boots and the sound of her laugh, which always made it up to the stairs two minutes ahead of her, echoing off the dingy beige walls. Sometimes it was even longer, if the friend had drama to share, of if there was some new boy with heart-shaped eyes on the other end of the line. When that happened though, her voice would lower, but sometimes her laugh would still rise up to fill the stairwell, if the boy was funny enough.

Shirley had been quiet from day one, growing into a first a toddler (that would wordlessly throw her mashed potatoes to the floor), who at seven took up knitting and paper quilling (and who someday wanted to secretly piece a entire quilt), and who at thirteen had refused the only valentine she'd ever been offered (forever breaking the heart of one Doug Benkins). Her phone was silent, and on the rare occasion it did go off, it spooked people with it's unfamiliar ring tone; everyone always forgot what it was. She was content to just be herself in her space, and she seemed to be happy and well adjusted, her parents decided to let her live and let be.

They had their hands full with Kayla as it was.

Unlike most of the twins Shirley read about as she had grown up, she and Kayla had never shared a room, not really. When they were babies, it didn't count. They'd both mutually decided at four that they wanted to sleep separately. They were tired of fighting over bedtime stories and whether or not the light stayed on, and if the door was closed all the way or not. Their moms had looked at one another and shrugged. They could rearrange. As long as whoever was leaving would all right with the much smaller spare storage area, they were more than happy to help them make the move. They'd crossed their fingers the girls would be able to compromise in a reasonable amount of time, but they hadn't expected it to happen right away.

Shirley had smiled brightly up at them. "That's the room I was going to ask for anyway. Everyone wins."

It was really the only space of the world that Shirley had to herself.

Not that it was a bad thing to spend life in the near constant presence of her sister. She just happened to be everywhere.

There was no other way to put it. In the small world of home and high school, her sister surrounded her. She read the morning announcements and helped put together every dance. She had the lead in the school musical, and was the head of student council. She was even in a very hyped local band at one point; which was really just her and three friends, none of whom had any real musical experience, and she had later made Shirley swear to her that she really did delete all the footage of their attempted music video (She hadn't, of course).

Kayla somehow snuck into almost every part of Shirley's life, often without trying. Boys would ask if she was dating anybody. Girls would ask her about possible party time and locations. Everyone wanted to be her friend, until they realized she wasn't really the friend type. Eventually she was mostly left alone, which meant she could spend her lunches happily in the glow of the film class' editing computers.

But inside the staff room, there was often discussion and debate over the topic; Just what made the two twin sisters such total opposites? How could there be two girls who shared no common traits or interests, but who had the exact same face and voice as each other.

They were the only identical quality about them. Everything else was wildly different, from their hair (pastel ponytails, natural and short), to their clothes (thrift store magic, mall brat chic) and everything else in between (top 40 pop hits, musical soundtracks; omnivore, vegan; seven piercings, never punctured; never inked, two tattoos), but they still loved each other fiercely none the less.

They never fought, never bickered, not even as kids. Despite their differences, they got along wonderfully. Kayla had always been a wonderful sister, who never kept secrets, who always stood up for her younger twin.

"My baby twin. Don't worry though. One day you'll grow up like me and realize what everything is really like in the world." She would say it through a grin, as she would braid Shirley's hair while they sat on her bed for sister-only secrets ("Jake is super into me, but I feel like I might be more in Tyler? The spring dance is coming and I have no idea who to ask. Commitment is stupid. Do you think that's a bad way to feel?" "So I think I might like girls. But like, not only girls. Like, I think I maybe like everyone? Is that a thing? Do you think that's a thing?")

Shirley had teased her right back. "Oh yeah, cause you're just so much more worldly than me, Miss Two-Minutes-Early." Kayla had stuck out her tongue at her sister's reflection, in the mirror of the vanity across from them.

"I'd rather be that than be Miss Two-Minutes-Late."

 

~

 

Two minutes late.

She had only had a half-day of school, because her dentist could only see her for a retainer fitting at 2:15 that day.

She had arrived seventeen minutes early, and was greeted by a very frazzled dental assistant. Something had happened that had caused the appointments to be backed up, and they were doing their very best, but there would be a longer wait than usual for her appointment. Was that ok?

She had shrugged. "My answer won't change my wait time, or the circumstances that cause it to happen, so it really doesn't matter, does it?"

The assistant had only blinked at her.

"It's fine. I'll just read some extra magazines."

She'd found a reasonably comfortable chair in the waiting area and sighed, glancing around her. All the magazines were glossy or dull, and so she pulled her phone out of her backpack. She turned it on, and instantly groaned. An Extra Low Battery warning. Why couldn't she ever remember to keep her phone charged? She shoved it into her coat pocket and slumped, looking around for something to distract and hold her attention.

There were paintings of flowers on every wall, all different sizes and styles. There were tiny place cards beside each one, some with red dots on them, all with a title, a list of materials, and a price. She squinted at the nearest one, trying to read, but it was too far. There wasn't a red sticker on that one's card. She remembered her mom explaining similar art in a cafe they'd once had lunch in.

"The red sticker means someone came here and fell in the love with this painting. So they bought it, but it has to stay here as part of the exhibition until it's over. The sticker keeps it safe from being bought twice."

Shirley wondered why nobody had bought the painting yet. It wasn't overly large. It was of two beautifully painted flowers that she didn't recognize. They were the same type, but one was pale pink and and the other a dusky blue. They looked like tiny trees made of even tinier horn shaped flowers. Or were they like bells? They were hard to describe, but maybe that was why she liked them so much. She was about to stand up to check the price, wondering exactly how expensive a painting in a dentist's office could be, but then the assistant had appeared, letting her know they were ready for her. As she followed the assistant down the hall, she glanced at the clock as she passed. Hmm. Not bad.

She was only two minutes late.

 

~

 

After her mouth had been molded and cleaned, she'd headed back home. If the bus wasn't late, she'd be able to make it back to their house with time to spare. Their parents wouldn't be home for another hour, and Kayla had an early dinner date with a boy whose mother didn't allow him out past eight o'clock on school nights. The apartment would be blissfully empty.

But as she skipped across the street, the wind picked up. Autumn was beginning to turn, and her light spring jacket didn't stand a chance against the rising chill. She pushed her hands into her pockets, searching for warmth, but hit cold metal and plastic instead.

"Stupid phone. I should have put you back in my bag." She pulled it out as she reached the lobby, pausing before she pushing in their building code to glance at the screen. To her surprise, it lit up with notifications of missed calls and short text messages. The same two numbers, over and over, sometimes more than once. One was an unknown number, but the other was Kayla. She scrolled through them, realizing Kayla, and whoever the other person was, had been trying to reach her for the entirity of her appointment, and her bus ride home.

She went back to the top of the list, trying to figure out what was going on. It looked like the last message from her sister hadn't been that long ago.

Messages-Kayla: I'm sorry, I love you, I tried

"What on earth does that mean?" Shirley whispered, suddenly feeling cold all over.

Then the phone buzzed to life in her hand, the unknown number blinking up at her, one, two, ring, ring...

Shirley swallowed, and then shook her head. "I'm sure it's just a telemarketer. Or the bank, calling for no real reason, again." Still, she was, for reasons she could not explain, afraid to answer it.

The phone continued to vibrate. Whoever was on the other end certainly was persistent. Finally, she could take it no longer, and hit the answer button, bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

There was static crackling on the other end of the line. Someone was talking, but it was faint, cutting in and out, and she couldn't make out a word they were saying. But even if she didn't know the words, she did know the voice.

"Kayla? Kayla, is that you?"

The static cut through, harsh and loud, drowning out her sisters voice.

"Kayla? What's going on, where are you? I can't hear you, are you in a tunnel or something?"

Then the static went dead, before a new voice began to speak. This time the words were crystal clear, but she had no idea who they belonged to.

"You took too long."

"What are you even talking about? Who is this?"

"Two minutes too long."

"Is this a prank? Is this one of Kayla's friends?"

"I hope you said goodbye today."

Click.

 

~

 

The call was over. The screen indicated that the other person, whoever they were, had hung up.

Shirley tried to shake the unease the call had wrapped around her, but it was almost impossible. She walked into their kitchen, leaving her phone behind in the front hall, wanting to put as much space in between it and her as possible.

It was just a prank call, Shirley, stop freaking out about it, she told herself sternly. It was probably Kayla and her stupid friends, acting out some creepy movie they all just watched or something. Quit being such a scaredy cat.

She tried to focus on making a snack, but the idea of food was somehow off putting to her, so she decided to just head to her room instead. Play some music extra loud, repaint her toenails... she just needed to focus.

She kept her eyes on her phone for the entire time she passed by the table it sat on, and she held her breath until she had turned the corner and it was out of view. She exhaled as she crossed to her bedroom door, which she kept shut when she was away, like most girls her age. Kayla did it too.

So why was door ajar now?

Shirley stared at her sister's open door, and the cold feeling returned. Kayla always, always kept her door shut. Even when she was home, even when she was inside her bedroom, her door was closed. She would never have gone from school and left it like that.

All the anxiety that had been building up inside her suddenly kicked up and swirled around her heart, squeezing it tight.

Something was in Kayla's room.

She had no idea how she knew it, but she knew she did. She knew it as well as she knew the sky was blue, or that water was wet.

She dropped her backpack to the floor, her hands hanging limp by her sides. Her feet began to move toward the door, even as her brain told her to stay away. It was as if her body was being compelled, was being pulled toward... whatever was waiting for her behind that door.

As she got closer, she saw the room wasn't completely dark as it should have been. No, there was something lighting up the room, only slightly, a fading, flickering light.

She put her hand flat on the panted wood, just to the side of the cheery violet name plate that had been there since their sixth birthday.

"Kayla," she called softly, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. "Kayla, is that you in there?"

Nothing answered her.

But she knew.

She pushed the door open, and took in the gruesome sight that was waiting for her, illuminated from behind by two burning black candles, swaying slightly, side to side, causing the ceiling fan to creak under the weight.

When her parents found her there, she was screaming, on the floor, on her knees, just in front of in the open doorway; screaming with no sound, her voice long worn out.

Shirley had become the one thing she never thought she could be.

Shirley Stirling was an only child.


End file.
